Mother in the Garden
She sat on a chair and held the gushing hose for her rock garden,
The rocks she had gathered over time and carefully aligned
Were holding back the earth...at least mostly.
While I spooned mud in cookie pans, hard at play,
Shaping my slippery cakes of mud and clay,
Me, so proud of them.
She pondered the coal bill now past due...
How much for the milkman? How much for the light?
How much for the meal we'd eat that night?
My mud-cake pans full, I walked to her and asked,
"What is that red flower called?"
"A calla lily, June, my favorite."
The petals looked like fiery tongues to me
Like they'd grown in my fairy tales tempestuously
Scarlet petals a bit darkened, somewhat
wrinkled at their rims,
But its foliage and tall stems provided sturdy limbs
That set it apart.
Mom watered and watered. The air was fragrant with the smell of wet earth and blossom.
And there was dream in her eyes.
Theresa Thaete
9:31 am on Friday, June 8, 2012
Beautiful! What a great memory! My Mom also taught me to love to garden and to see the beauty in God's creations. My sisters and I made many mud pies often putting in peach or cherry pits to make them more believable and tasty. We never had calla lilies-my Mom's favorite was peonies. I was so excited that the home we bought 20 years ago had several wonderful bushes. She died when I was only 18, so it was so special to me. Thanks for sharing.
Theresa Thaete
june luvisi
1:12 pm on Friday, June 8, 2012
What a heart warming response...can't tell you how much it means to me. To have evoked a similar memory with someone "out there". Thank you so much!
Arizonakidd
3:09 pm on Friday, June 8, 2012
The simplicity of childhood and the worries of a loving mother.....a very precise description of that period of life. Your sensory story of color, feel, and smell makes me feel like I'm back in my own childhood again- what a great feeling! I enjoy your writings as well as this poem- a nice, almost therapeutic pause in an otherwise hectic life. If this makes one persons life better you have accomplished a lot as "we can't help everyone but everyone can help someone."
june luvisi
8:03 pm on Friday, June 8, 2012
Your comment is so appreciated. I think writing the poem brought back a memory I've had in the back of my mind for years and to think it has a therapeutic effect is very gratifying.
Susan Richardson
5:55 pm on Friday, June 8, 2012
Wish for that time again, playing in the backyard, chasing fireflies and watching the garden grow. Your poem sings of your moms nurturing wisdom and the love for her daughter.
Jennifer
8:11 pm on Friday, June 8, 2012
Wow, this post really stirs the emotions with great imagery!
William George
8:12 pm on Friday, June 8, 2012
Boy, this post really stimulates imagery and emotions....beautiful!
june luvisi
8:13 pm on Friday, June 8, 2012
I wasn't thinking of trying to communicate these emotions, just trying to recreate a scene from so many years ago. It's soul satisfying to hear your impressions.